The Familia of Broken Blades
by Astral Star and Company
Summary: Brought together by an artifact of mysterious power, three adventurers band together to solve its mysteries. But many trials await them as both monsters and men stand in the way of their answers. Together, they must grow in strength, recruit new allies and conquer old enemies. Because if they don't, the answers they seek will forever remain a mystery.
1. Chapter 1: A Brief Encounter

Orario, the city of opportunity. Every adventurer dreams of making a name in this place, to engrave their accomplishments in the annals of history. Here, man and god work together to create a prosperous future for their familia. This was a place where adventurers could truly shine, honing their skills and earning a fortune. The stuff that dreams were made of.

But to a sad many, dreams were all it turned out to be.

Out in the country, monsters like those in the dungeons appear from time to time. But unlike the dungeons, these creatures were spread far and wide, and yielded little in a day's worth of hunting than an hour in the dungeon. Hence, any adventurer looking to make it big headed straight for Orario proper. What's left out here are those too weak to measure up to the city's standards, or extortionists looking to make an easy living off the desperate townsfolk.

No matter the case, these troublesome times didn't seem to concern out three adventurers. Three heroes who looked to Orario as a means to begin a new journey, a new life, and one wrought with the happiness they ought to deserve.

But till this day, those times seemed a long, long way off.

Gaspard Lenoire was a long, long way from home. Spending months on the road, riding from town to town in a carriage pulled by his trusty steed Silva, his journey was finally at its end. There he was, slowly making his way through the main street of Orario, the adventuring capital of the main continent. Here, all types of people milled about. From humans to half humans, elves to dwarves, even the humble prum were present, walking the streets, tending the stands, having fun. Now this, was a place he could get used to.

But unfortunately, he came for a different reason, and like the arrow-minded person he was, he went straight for his objective.

Further down the street and off to the side a little was the Guild Office, the place he travelled all this way to look for. It was a building like most others. Tall, in a sort of decorative, continental style, with banners hanging proud from two wings, and a high and wide set of double doors in the middle. No doubt for all the traffic this place was seeing.

People of all shapes and sizes came out, most clad in some sort of armor and brandishing any and all kinds of weapons, sometimes more than one. Each and every one of them eyed the man in black as he made his way in. Luckily for him, Gaspard wasn't looking for an adventurer. In fact, he was looking for an old friend.

Inside, was a wide room with a high ceiling and sunlight streaming through the generous windows. On the opposite side was a long counter where the adventurers were tended to by beautiful young women, the rumored 'Flowers of the Guild'. But among them was a single man, busying himself with their questions just as much as the adventurer's enquiries.

"Julian! Hey!"

The guild officer looked up to see an old friend stroll in front of him and dropped everything to meet him. Julian Smoke used to be stationed at the guild office in his hometown. You could even say they grew up together, with their respective occupations meaning they'd meet several times a day. Gaspard always wondered where he disappeared to, but to find him in Orario of all places was quite a promotion.

The handsome blonde smiled "Mr Lenoire, it's been quite a while. How's business?"

Gaspard sighed "You know how it is. How's the guild working out for you?"

He laughed "Not bad, not bad. Still though, what did you really come here for? As much as I'd appreciate it, you never come by for a simple visit,"

It was the mage's turn to smile "You know me, all business…"

Gaspard hefted his satchel onto the counter and withdrew a long, irregular object wrapped in thick cloth. He took his time unravelling it. Julian's anticipation was just too good to miss.

"And here we are,"

Between them was a long, smooth piece of glossy teal stone, pointed on one end and jagged on the other. The item he dedicated months of travelling to appraise, and the source of untold amounts of conflict and enigma.

Julian took out a magnifying glass "Now let's have a look here… hmm… interesting, very interesting…"

Gaspard gave him a couple minutes before asking the obvious question.

"Well?"

"I got nothing,"

"Then what was all that for?!"

"For show," he shrugged "Honestly, I doubt anyone in the guild would know what this is. You happen to have the other pieces? Assuming there are any,"

"I wouldn't be here if I did," Though if it really was a part of something bigger… That would be quite interesting.

Julian took a moment to tap his chin "Well… this is a problem…"

"You're telling me?" he scratched his curly black hair "Look, if you can't help me then, do you know who can?"

There was a spark in his eyes "Ah! Now that you mention it…"

He quickly and messily tore through a pile of papers until he found what he was looking for.

"And here we are…"

The mage looked to the disaster of a desk with pity. No pile of sheets deserved that.

"… Horace Bloodtalon, adventurer…"

He balked "An adventurer?" this could mean trouble.

"Yep, though given the way he looks you'd never guess he was just level 2…"

Gaspard was uneasy. He really couldn't handle adventurers. They were so loud and ill-mannered, not to mention greedy. Back home, they were the most unwelcome of sights. And being level 2… this put the mage at a significant disadvantage.

"… and you can find him here, in the ruined district. Some old shrine the guild owns, but the guy's taken it for rent a couple days ago. Came asking about some magic sword or something too. Couldn't help him either,"

A sword? Come to think of it… the mystery rock did look like a blade of some sort…

Gaspard took the paper and went immediately went on his way "Thanks for the info. I'll go pay him a visit,"

"Right, good luck with that," Julian smirked, unabashed by his sudden departure "I'll be seeing you,"

His mind was made up. He'd go to this wasted shrine, find this Horus guy and get some answers. Maybe then, he'd know what this accursed item could be, and be rid of it once and for all.

According to the address he was given, the building he was looking for was deep in the Ruined District, a small section of Orario mostly consisting of broken buildings and debris. That's not to say it wasn't any less scenic. In fact, Gaspard liked this place. There was so much history laid bare before his eyes. He couldn't help but think of the stories these old statues and columns once told.

It wasn't long before he encountered one of the few standing structures in the district. A two story building that looked like it was lifted straight out of the story books from eastern lands. Tiled, sweeping rooves, wooden beams and what looked like canvas instead of glass for the windows. Overall, the place looked old. It practically sagged under its own weight in front of him.

After quickly confirming that this was the place, he entered without hesitation. Struggling against the sliding door, he was finally greeted with the damp, musty smell of dust and age. Looking around, he saw the featureless hallways to his left and right. Straight ahead was another set of sliding doors, and with nothing to lose, he pushed forward, and definitely liked what he saw.

In front of him was a garden, open to the afternoon sky and surrounded by the building behind him. The grass grew thick and untamed, with wildflowers and small trees bursting from their pots. And the main attraction, a statue in the likeness of a beautiful woman. Weathering has done little to diminish her beauty. With a graceful silhouette and an atmosphere of wistfulness and warmth, she knelt on the ground, staring softly at the thing she held in her arms. As he approached, it indeed appeared to be a scabbard wrapped in cloth, but by the tenderness of her gaze, it could've been a newborn babe.

"Beautiful…"

 _SNAP_

Gaspard turned, and his heart wretched.

There in the doorway was a woman in black. While he would welcome the advance of any of the female persuasion, he was seriously perturbed by this one's figure. Snow white hair, lithe frame, clad in traveler's plate clearly a few sizes too big. Her clothes were fastened on with belts and chains and every bit of it was stained some shade of black or burgundy. And in each hand was a set of claws, five cruel blades each an easy two feet long.

And she was staring right at him, her face hidden behind a featureless white mask as she held one clawed hand outstretched.

Gaspard's mouth ran dry. He didn't even notice her, and he prided himself on his ability to sense danger. He gripped his staff tight, and watched, as the sinister presence took one step closer.

"Don't you move!" He warned, putting his staff between himself and the girl

She paid no heed, and took another easy step towards him.

"I'm warning you!"

Still nothing, another step was taken.

He was tired of her antics "That's it! White Bolt!"

A spear of white magic flew from the head of his staff.

But she was already gone.

"Huh?" but in that instant, instinct told him to duck.

And he was glad he did, else those lethal talons would've beheaded him in a single swipe. The girl was airborne, agilely flipping away from her attempt at murder. Gaspard was shaken, staff still in hand.

He tried for a spell.

"Unforgiving night, I-WOAH!"

But his chant was cut short by a fan of glowing knives. Seemingly from out of nowhere, incandescent white blades flew at a break-neck pace.

He dodged but he was right off balance, tumbling to the ground and scrambling to get back up again before that demon could take another swipe. But she was done toying around. She landed before him and unleashes a flurry of clawed strikes without mercy or restraint. Gaspard was pedaling backward, desperately fending away those deadly blades.

Not only was she fast, she was strong. Every blow shook his arms as those claws bit down on his poor staff. Biding his time, he willed power into the rod and yelled.

"Rend, my blade of moonlight!"

A long, crescent blade erupted from the tip of Gaspard's staff, nearly impaling the savage girl as she advanced. Now that he had some breathing room, Gaspard put his new glaive between him and his assailant.

"Come on then!" he jeered

The girl crouched down, claws outstretched and lunged, bringing down her claws on thin air as he wove to the side.

"Take this!"

And he brought his magic scythe across her open back. The woman hardly flinched, she swung wildly in a vain effort to catch him. He leapt back and swung his staff wide while chanting.

"White dart!"

Three points of light flew from the tip of his staff as he swung. The first grazed her, galvanizing her as she charged. The second rooted itself in her left thigh, but even that wouldn't stop her. The next tore its way through the flesh at her shoulder, but she just kept coming.

Gaspard was quickly running out of ideas. The girl brought up her claws, and he brought up his staff. They were inches from gutting each other when-

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

The doors flung open, and a new figure approached. He was a mountain of a man, clad in plate and mail like the warriors from ancient times. He had a dark, thick, furry hide as a cloak and a helmet seen only in the age of heroes that hid his entire face in darkness.

"You dare fight on sacred ground?!"

Gaspard couldn't explain it, but it was like he exerted an undeniable pressure, just by standing there. They could hardly move. The claw girl felt it too, she visibly shook in his presence. His footsteps held the weight of heavy steel boots as he approached them, his expression unreadable through the slits in his helmet.

He jabbed a gloved finger at the mage "And who, are you?"

The man blinked "Erm… Gaspard Lenoire wandering mage," then he added "At your service," with a bow

The warrior regarded him evenly, then turned to the girl "And you, introduce yourself,"

She stared at him. Her own expression a mystery beneath that mask.

"Gods, are you deaf, lass? Your name. NOW!"

The two combatants were taken aback. This guy was dominating them with words and presence alone.

Finally, the girl spoke "…Lilin," she said in a quiet voice

The warrior stepped back, and beat his breastplate with his right hand "And I am Horace, Horace Bloodtalon. Though you may only refer to me as 'Sir' or 'Horace'. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes sir," Gaspard answered, then quickly bit himself for answering on instinct. Who did he think he was?

"Good, now let's see why you've come to this sacred place,"

He moved between them and knelt before the statue. There was no change, but from beneath that dark cloak he saw the faintest glimpse of glimmering teal stone.

Gaspard's eyes widened "Hey, you don't happen to have…"

As if responding to a call, he felt his mystery stone get lighter. The warrior's stone floated unbidden, revealing itself to be some sort of hilt and maybe half a cross guard.

"No way…"

The claw girl shook, but something powerful tore itself free from her arms. Gaspard knew immediately what this was. Moving to bring out his own stone, it flew from his satchel in an instant and slowly drifted towards the petrified maiden's empty scabbard. Like an ancient puzzle, the pieces were bound by forces even he couldn't comprehend.

It was as he guessed. This Broken Blade hovered before them in all its majesty.

"You have been chosen," Horace said, knocking the other two out of their stupor

Lilin stared at him.

"Chosen? Chosen for what?" Gaspard said, seriously doubting the girl's ability to speak.

The knight waved his hand towards the statue "This, my new comrade is the Broken Blade of heroes, renewed by our efforts. As the writings decree, we are forever bound to this shrine, to serve as its guardians until the time for its revival has come,"

And that was how their adventures began.

Or so they thought…


	2. Chapter 2: A New Arrangement

Just a little later, Gaspard found himself seated at a table inside the shrine building. His host, the man who called himself Horace, busied himself elsewhere. The girl and former opponent, Lilin, sat atop a dresser by the wall and stared. She'd been doing that a lot lately, ever since the knight announced him as a comrade she did little to him but stare. The mage couldn't help but feel conscious about himself, but also, conscious about her.

Her wounds from their previous fight weren't obvious, her being clad head to toe in a thick dark coat and a similarly styled top and bottom, along with large, heavy boots. To Gaspard, it looked to be dyed a strange mix of brown and red. Blood and dirt he surmised, given her penchant for fighting. But he clearly knew she had been skewered in several places with magic, yet she showed no sign of discomfort, or even hostility.

And the man Horace, who was he to lead them? And what's the deal with this Broken Blade anyway?

"I trust you've made yourself comfortable?" came a thick voice

Horace came into the living room with a single glass of water. Gaspard raised an eyebrow, was this what he called hospitality?

"As comfortable as I can be," he answered evenly "Now are you going to explain some things to me? Or will I have to leave?"

He watched the girl raise a clawed hand, but lowered it at the knight's signal.

"I understand your concerns, but know that everything will be revealed in due time," he said

"Right. That blasted stone has taken me here, there and everywhere by now,"

The knight nodded "Though you are entitled to your answers, I'm afraid I have little to give,"

Gaspard was liking this less and less "Explain,"

"The girl, Lilin, and I happened upon this shrine with similar circumstances to yours. I was the first to come, and after a brief skirmish, she came to understand I meant no harm, and came here for the same purpose…"

The mage looked to the girl and saw no hint of reaction.

"…Like you, we both were compelled to seek answers regarding the stone. From what I've gathered, each of us has procured one of three pieces of an ancient relic belonging to this shrine. From the design on the hilt, this "Broken Blade", predates recorded history,"

"So, the age of myth?" Gaspard offered

A period beyond memory where most legends of heroes and monsters took place. A time where Orario and its dungeon did not exist, and monsters prowled the world like animals on the hunt. But that was long ago, far longer than any recorded history.

"That doesn't exactly tell me a lot," he said while scratching his head

"And it won't, but those are the circumstances,"

The mage didn't like how honest he was being. He's dealt with all types, but this Horace fellow was puzzling to say the least. No matter which direction he took, he just couldn't deduce a motive out of him.

"But if I stay…" he wondered "Will I get my answers?"

"That… I cannot promise," Horace admitted

Right, this was a waste of time. Gaspard was no closer to figuring out this mystery since he arrived and all he had to show for the trip was some mystic mumbo-jumbo.

"But if you stay, I can promise you stand a greater chance of finding them,"

Gaspard froze as he was getting out of his seat "Is that a fact?" he said, sitting back down.

He hunkered down, put his elbows on his knees and said to him:

"Let's talk,"

* * *

After a brief conversation, Gaspard had everything Horace knew committed to memory. Like himself, he had acquired his piece of the blade a long time ago. How long ago or from where, he was unwilling to say. Fine by him, he didn't feel the need to share either. Next, he had been the first to arrive at the shrine 5 days ago and lived off of mending weapons while combing the building for clues. Lilin arrived 3 days ago, and nearly tore the place to shreds in her search for answers. That is until Horace reined her in the old-fashioned way.

On the second floor on the west side of the building was where the two men were headed now. There was a library there, stocked shelves upon shelves of material and a few tables and chairs for reading. Horace opened the door for the both of them and allowed Gaspard to wander inside.

"Here you'll find first-hand accounts from adventurers of the days of old. Former residents beyond doubt. Feel free to browse,"

"Um, thanks," he said, taking a book off the shelf.

He threw a sidelong glance at the old adventurer as he made his way back down the hall. Despite his intimidating appearance he was awfully polite, he thought. Well, no matter, he had an entire afternoon and a library of books to get through.

Yet he dared get his hopes up.

If what the knight said was true, then he'd find little more than what he already knew about the place. But here was something to do, and hopefully it'll be worth his time.

It took half an hour of reading to convince Gaspard Lenoire that it was pointless. Stupid diaries, textbooks he memorized in primary school, and many more in a language he couldn't read. There might've been something in those books, but as he went on, he began to care less and less.

"This is hopeless," he said, tossing another book on the growing pile of disappointment.

He rubbed his temples, trying to think. If this was indeed the place where the blade belonged, why was it separated? And across the continent? That didn't make sense. And what of the powers it bestowed? Something called… what was it?

Falna

The blessing of the gods. The very thing that allowed regular men and women to become paragons of strength, speed and cunning, to match the heroes of old and ascend higher than their fellow man and closer to their gods. Supposedly it was only given to people in a god's familia, by the god themselves, not by some random hunk of stone. Sure it wasn't exactly unheard of for a holy artefact to bestow falna, but it was always tied to its god, and held an intrinsic link to them.

He stood and walked to the window, where the centre garden lay below. The statue was indeed beautiful, but it was of no goddess he knew. If the blade was an artefact, then why hasn't this mystery god contacted him? For 10 years he bore the stone, but no sign of a divine will.

Only power.

"Hm?"

Something's up.

"Who's there?"

It was probably nothing, but years on the road taught him never to take chances. It was faint, but it was definitely a voice, feminine even. His staff was downstairs, but he could still cast his spells if need be.

"Show yourself!"

CREAK

He spun, expecting a figure but seeing instead a gap in the wall, draped in cobwebs and billowing in a breeze.

"A secret door. A real secret door…"

All semblance of caution was abandoned as he let childish glee take over.

"Let's see…"

He grabbed the stubborn door and heaved, forcing it open the rest of the way.

It was dark inside. Despite the afternoon sun, not a single ray of sunshine came in through the windows. Mildly annoyed, Gaspard snapped his fingers and a small globe of white light appeared above his left hand. Illuminated, the contents of the room became clear.

"To hell with this, more books?!"

Though the same size as any other room in the building, it held only a single desk, and a long line of shelves lined up against the back wall. All of it filled with identical looking black books. He was nearing the end of his patience, but against better judgment, he took one off the shelf and read.

"Huh?"

It was blank. Not a single scrap of writing in perhaps 800 pages of parchment. Wait, that's not right. He felt something, it was faint but it's there. He held his light up to the pages and ancient pictograms revealed themselves before his eyes.

"…A grimoire!"

Advanced enchanted books that could give the reader the power of the spell contained within, permanently! But they were always one time use things, and this one was definitely spent. That childish glee was back again, as he dived into the shelves.

Maybe this one? No? How about this one? Nuh-uh… Come on, come on! There's got to be…

Bingo!

Now this, this was old. Not quite the age of myth, but Gaspard has seen this text before. An ancient language predating Koine, the common language. It was ancient, but luckily, not forgotten.

"The Secrets of Shadow Magic: Blurring the Border Between the Cursed and Arcane," he read

Sounds ominous, but there was definitely magic inside, a powerful spell was contained within. He could feeling seeping into his fingertips along with the tingling feeling of both power and anticipation.

"Alright, let's give it a shot!"

And he opened the book, and was devoured by what lay inside.

* * *

Whoa… what's… what's this?

Where am I?

It's so dark… And not like any night time stuff. This was complete and utter blackness, devoid of any light whatsoever. He couldn't even see his hands in front of his face, nor the solid ground beneath his feet.

Horace? Lilin? Julian?

Where is everyone?

A heavy mist arose from the ground as a low light enveloped his surroundings. There was a fire in the distance, but it flickered and wove like mirage in a desert. Nothing was clear, not the light ahead, nor the figures that now stood around them.

"Stay back!" he yelled, hands at the ready

Even as he said so, his incantations died on his lips. He couldn't feel his magic, only a growing emptiness as the faceless figures advanced upon him.

Something reared its head, a vaguely female form among a sea of shadowy apparitions.

"Do you desire power?" it whispered through a veil of smoke. A voice as smooth and rich as the sweetest chocolate, practically caressing each and every word.

His fists clenched, daring another figure to approach him. "Power? What do you mean? What do you want?"

It regarded him for a moment, head tilted to the right "Hm… You are not ready. Not yet,"

"Not ready for what? Hey! Don't ignore me!"

"Begone,"

The shadows shifted and its presence disappeared.

What's going on?!

But before he could say anymore, the shadows rushed in, and the darkness swallowed him up.

"pard… Gaspard? Hey, Gaspard!"

"Huh?" he opened his bleary eyes to see Horace, his unsettling metal helmet staring down at him.

"Wha…? What happened?"

"That's what I want to know," Horace said.

The mage sat up, realizing he was spread out on the floor, a deluge of empty grimoires on the floor around him. The sun outside was just about to set outside. Just how long was he out for?

Horace picked one up and examined it closely "Did you read these?"

Gaspard shook his head, to clear his mind and to say no.

Horace replaced the book on the shelf and slowly trod downstairs.

"Come down when you're ready, there's one more thing we must discuss,"

Still dreary, Gaspard rubbed his eyes as the knight left the room. It must've been a dream, but it felt so vivid. He could still feel it, those chills as the shadows rushed towards him. His palms still shook, so he held them tightly until the feeling went away. He glanced right, and saw the grimoire he'd read. Even that grimoire was blank now.

His disappointment was evident on his face "So much for that,"

Giving it a light kick, he plodded downstairs, just to see what this mystery man had in store this time.

* * *

Gaspard and the knight Horace sat across each other again down in the living room where the previously conversed. Lilin of course, was in her usual position, leaning on the wall behind him. It made Gaspard wonder if she even moved since their last conversation. Once ready, Horace made a few points. If they were going to find the answers they all sought, they needed to work together and pool their resources. Now, the easiest way to earn a living in the adventuring capital of the main continent was obviously…

"To become an adventurer," Gaspard finished, the word leaving a sour taste in his mouth "And how do you suppose we do that?"

"We have the ability. We need only make it official. From the way you arrived, I suppose you have an acquaintance in the guild? Make use of him, and register the three of us as a familia,"

The mage raised an eyebrow "A familia? Won't we need some sort of divine being with us for that?"

"No need. We have our claim right there," he said, pointing towards the center of the shrine, where the newly reformed blade no doubt rested. "From then on, we earn our living in the dungeon, securing resources and using the Guild's vast intelligence to get the clues we need,"

Hm, sounded simply enough. It'll be hard to make money here otherwise, so…

"Right, I suppose I can... But I'll need a few things,"

"Name them,"

"First I'll need your status, hers too, for the guild's record. Next, I'll need some proof that our claim is legitimate. You know, the guild takes this adventuring stuff seriously," he said, rattling off the stuff he remembered from way back when.

Horace nodded in agreement "Noted. You'll have your statuses tomorrow. For now, I suggest you rest. You've had a long journey you'll need it,"

Gaspard took it as his opportunity to leave. Now he just needed to find someplace to stay, and somewhere to get dinner. Hopefully, a place far away from these weirdos…

"We have rooms to spare. Use one as if it were your own," Horace said, just as the mage was about to leave the room "Lilin will bring you dinner later on,"

He looked back at him with a quizzical frown "You know, you're a lot more hospitable than you look,"

"I have no reason to be suspicious of you. There's a small pasture out the back for your horse. Your carriage can stay outside, but be sure to secure your belongings,"

As much as he disliked the idea of being in under the same roof as his dangerous new companions, the rooms in the building weren't all that bad. A little drafty, but well furnished. And his purse was feeling a little light…

"Um, thanks, I guess," he said, still a little unsure "I'll take the one next to the library,"

"Feel free,"

The knight then excused himself, exiting the room with the masked woman Lilin closed behind.

Lingering there for a moment, Gaspard then set out to do as the knight said. First was his luggage. He had little with him, so he managed to carry it all up to his room upstairs in one go. Silva, the stubborn old mare, took a bit of convincing before she could be led around the outside of the building and into the sizeable patch of greenery on the other side. He wasn't all too worried about her running away, it was harder to get her to move than to stay after all.

Next was the room itself. Just one door down from the library, it was nearly exactly like the hidden side room, only emptier. There was an old dresser and a bedframe here, but that was all worth mentioning, really. He was just about to unpack his meager belongings before there came a knocking on the door.

"Come in," he said

There was a scratching, then the masked woman Lilin entered the room. She walked smoothly and precisely, which only made Gaspard more nervous as a tray of food balanced precariously on the edges of her claws.

"Er, thanks. I can take it from here,"

He gingerly reached out and took the tray, keeping his fingers as far away from the blades as possible.

"You know, you never take off that mask, do you?" he said

She said nothing, and exited the room as if he said nothing at all.

"Geez… just trying to make some conversation…"

Let's see, bread, cheese and water. Gaspard scratched his head, is this what they've been eating this entire time? He ate it quickly along with some dried meat he'd packed from the last village and laid down to sleep, thoughts of his crazy first day in Orario swirling throughout his head. Just how long will he have to wait? And this familia business, is it really the right thing to do?

He supposed it didn't matter in the end. As long as this stone remained a mystery to him, he had nowhere to run back to, nowhere to hide. Besides, beyond all common sense he felt sort of… at ease, here in the shrine. It definitely wasn't the company, so it was probably something more… subversive, yet he still couldn't help but worry. The door was locked and barricaded the curtains shut and the windows secured, so what's there more to worry about?

A lot actually, but he supposed it could wait until the morning.

He slowly closed his eyes, and gently fell asleep.

* * *

Downstairs, Horace Bloodtalon stared at the moon from the Shrine's backyard. Ignoring Silva, who grazed in the meadow, he took in the soft scent of wildflowers as he spoke softly to the elegant figure behind him.

"After all these years, we've taken our first step," he said, his gaze never shifting from the pale disc above "May I ask, how much longer must we wait?"

There was a murmur, so soft that it was carried away in the evening breeze

"No, I've not lost faith, not yet. But I must know, why have you brought the three of us here? Together?"

The figure whispered her reassurances.

"I suppose time is always a factor, is it not?" he sighed, lowering his gaze to the grasses below "I have nothing left, so if you are to make use of me, I suggest you do it soon,"

A little laugh, like the gentle beating of the wind in the trees.

"Then I await your instruction, as I always have,"

He finally turned around, and gazed at the balcony where the figure once stood.

"In due time..."

* * *

"…And that's how it went,"

"What? And that's it? You just joined some random familia like that?" Julian said astounded

"Well it's not like I had anything better to do," Gaspard said in his defense

True to his word, Horace had given Gaspard both his and Lilin's statuses. The mage had to break out a paper and pen, and with the help of a mirror, he copied his own down from the tattoo on his back. An adventurer's status was recorded there on the magic inscription. Usually a god would be the one to read their famalia's status, but with notable absence of one, he supposed a handwritten job would have to do. Of course, they were also written in ancient pictograms, so not only was writing them hard, actually reading them was all but hopeless.

He's back here in the Guild office because this little gathering he's joined hasn't been officially recognized as a familia yet. Now he stood with his old friend back in the Guild Office to sort out the paper work. The only thing they were missing was a claim to divinity.

"It's simple really. Adventurers get their powers from blessings their patron god or goddess has bestowed upon them. Without a deity to bless them, they'd just be regular people," Julian had once explained.

But now they had this… sword or whatever, sitting in a shrine in the middle of the Ruined District of Orario. Not exactly a god, nor god-class real estate.

"Is it weird to claim divinity from a sword?" he asked

"Not at all. For some reason or another some gods can't physically be there for their children. Trust me, you aren't the first 'Godless Familia' in Orario,"

"And if we don't know our one's name?"

"Oh, just scratch an 'NA' there. There are thousands of deities out there, and the Guild doesn't even know half of them,"

With that, Gaspard finished all the necessary forms in a flash.

Julian gave them a onceover before he declared "Everything appears to be in order. I hereby announce the formation of 'The Broken Blade's Familia',"

There was a short yet sweet round of applause from the rest of the guild officers before they went back to work.

"The what?"

"Just thought it'd be a cool name," he shrugged "You can change it later for a little cash if you'd like,"

He supposed it'll do.

After a second of rummaging around under the desk, Julian shoved a small wooden box towards him. "Inside you'll find your Guild ID cards and dungeon passes, as well as a few trinkets to start you off,"

Gaspard took one look at the box and said "Isn't it kind of full?" it was filled to bursting with miscellaneous goodies

"Think of it as a personal gift from me," he said "Now good luck. If I know you well enough, you'll be needing every bit to stay alive,"

Gaspard cracked a smile "Thanks Jules. You're a saint,"

"Happy trails, Lenoire. I'll be seeing you this afternoon for the review,"

And off he went, staff in hand, towards the great Tower of Babel, and what lay beneath.


	3. Chapter 3: A Power Acknowledged

The Great Tower of Babel, or just 'Babel' to the common folk, was a huge cylindrical skyscraper that reached so high it could rival the mountains the north. It was a symbol of the power of the gods, as they sealed the dungeon beneath it when they descended from heaven. Here it still stands as a testament to their glory, and a handy place to buy high quality goods and house the more well-off deities in Orario.

Yet, as always, Gaspard wasn't at all interested in what's in the tower, but what's beneath it.

As he approached, his two new comrades stood out like a pair of sore thumbs. As always, their faces were hidden, but weapons well in view, as if they're daring people to look their way. Horace stood with a gigantic tower shield, large enough to cover even his bulky frame. Lilin was, as usual, wearing her very own set of claws, white mask fixed on the random passers-by.

Dark, silent, brooding, would it kill them to lighten up a bit? They stood so still they might as well be statues.

"Hey, guess we're a familia now, huh?" he said, as the two turned to greet him. Well, one did anyway.

"As expected. No doubt we'll be called back to the Guild once the papers have been arranged, but for now I've organized an expedition of sorts,"

"Oh? Can't say there are too many places to sight-see underground,"

Lilin silently stared. She'd made it a habit, Gaspard noticed. That featureless mask made it all the more unnerving.

Horace led the way as he gave out a few more details.

"We'll be venturing to floor 5. The Guild cannot recommend we reach it on our first day, but with our skill, it shouldn't trouble us. On the way, we'll make an assessment of each of our skills and develop our own hunting practices,"

"Right, at our level we'll probably be here a while," the mage muttered

"Unfortunately so,"

Lilin said nothing.

Most adventurers were level 1, with very few managing to see level 2 or above by the end of their careers. And until the familia broke past this level, any unsanctioned visits to floors after 5 would be considered an illegal, not to mention life-threatening decision. But it made him wonder, just how did Horace reach level 2 out on the surface? Level 2s were rare enough, but there were precious few outside Orario. Actually, taking in his daunting appearance, it actually wasn't that hard to imagine him as one of the adventuring elite.

As they entered the tower and descended the abyss-bound spiraling stairs, they drew the eyes of onlookers with every step. It was enough to make Gaspard self-conscious, even though he knew the fault was with the other two. Horace, his big imposing physique and armor revealed not a single sliver of flesh nor warmth, as if he was one with the armor. Lilin, overall sinister appearance was no less odd. It made Gaspard of all people look normal.

At the bottom of the steps lay the first floor of the dungeon. One long passageway cut up by smaller adjoining tunnels. According to Julian, the first five levels were structured this way, being expansively maze-like, even with their own sets of subfloors above and below. Further down, the whole place was awash in a subtle green light.

Horace's head turned to the right "Kobold,"

And right on que, a squat, hairy humanoid with the head of a wolf, sprinted down the tunnel to meet them. But as soon as it appeared, its head disappeared as a flash of white light shot down the hall.

Lilin straightened up as her claws slowly lost their alabaster sheen. Was that really magic? But it was so fast, and chantless to boot. It kind of made him wonder how he even survived his encounter.

"Best not waste our time on such trifles," Horace said with contempt

But Gaspard wasn't one to be wasteful. He opened his hand, and a glittering purple stone flew into his empty palm from the Kobold's dissolving corpse. A magic stone, the baseline for an adventurer's income. These little gems could be traded in at the guild for valis, Orario's currency. Though the one in Gaspard's hand was about the thickness of a pencil and only half as long. It barely qualified as a pebble.

"Trifles indeed," he said, pocketing the sliver

His left glove was enchanted to attract magical objects. Just a cheap bit of mundane utility.

"Let's move on," the knight urged "More worthwhile quarry lay below,"

About two more floors down and about 2 dozen attempts by the small fry to kill them, the three adventurers found themselves deep in the 5th floor of the dungeon. According to the map crammed inside the box Julian gave him, Gaspard surmised that this was where the monster spawn rate really started to ramp up. As many as 8 monsters could spawn at the same time.

"Alright, we're here," he said, folding up the map "Now what?"

Horace took a brief look around "Now, we wait,"

Lilin twitched, her head turned to the tunnel to their left. They heard it too, the scrabbling of stone, the guttural growls. It's a sound he knew all too well.

"Goblins…" Gaspard breathed

"Just in time. I'll show you two what I'm made of,"

Horace hefted his large tower shield, grabbed his mace and marched on.

* * *

Just ahead, a small cluster of small, green monsters wandered aimlessly around the chamber. Goblins indeed, with their stubby features, pointed ears, long noses and bad teeth. Though the size of a child, their ferocity and numbers have spelt death to many rookie adventurers.

"Let us begin," Horace announced

He drew his mace, and with a big windup, brought it down on the edge of his shield. A flash of red light erupted from it, and as if enchanted or enraged by the light, the goblins hungrily charged him from across the cavern. Horus rapped his shield again, but this time, ominous black magic wrapped and wove itself around him.

"You reap what you sow," he murmured.

The first goblin struck, smashing its tiny fist into the warrior's waiting shield. At its touch, the black magic leapt at the little monster, and all the others behind him. Gaspard recognized it immediately. It was a curse, a kind of magic primarily used to debilitate rather than kill. The afflicted fell and writhed, snarling and shrieking as Horus calmly walked over to each with his mace in hand. He brought it down on one goblin after another, and whatever wasn't smashed to a pulp was smeared across the floor by his heavy steel boots.

Sure it wasn't particularly showy, but he had still neutralized two dozen goblins without a single injury and little effort.

Gaspard whistled appreciatively "Not bad, old man. Not what you'd expect from a warrior, huh?"

"Not at all. Though not usually what a raiding group would look for in a vanguard,"

He was right. When someone wanted a warrior on the vanguard, they wanted a strong adventurer who could take plenty of punishment and draw enemy attention above all else. And while he certainly could draw attention, he probably wasn't as sturdy or mobile as dedicated guardians. Not to mention, investing in magic when he clearly registered as a warrior is sure to have adventurers questioning.

"Let's get moving. Lilin's up next,"

The two couldn't tell from her mask, but beneath it, she was smiling.

* * *

There was only one word to describe Lilin right now: Monstrous

The very moment they encountered the next group of goblins, she was upon them in an instant. The second her claws drew blood, as it was as if she was whipped into a frenzy. Goblin after goblin, each one was felled in a single swipe. In a blur of movement, she had already claimed another, and another, and another. More disturbingly, was the fact that she committed such ruthless slaughter in complete silence, her expression shielded behind that mask of hers. When she returned to them, she was covered nearly head to toe in goblin blood.

"Well, that explains a lot," Gaspard quipped, remembering the dark red stains on her clothing when they first met.

Her head tilted to the right, 'What now?' it seemed to say.

Horace had little to say to her personally. Her style of fighting was, though effective, wild and reckless, completely lacking any technique or strategy. Against stronger opponents, he fully expected her to sustain significant injury. There was also the problem with her social skill, or complete lack thereof. Gaspard remembered how she'd rear up whenever he spoke badly of her. Besides themselves, he could see her doing more damage to other adventurers than to the monsters.

"Go on ahead and find us some more goblins," Horus ordered "And you, let's see what you can do,"

Gaspard hefted his staff. "Right, my turn,"

They didn't need to go far. Further down the tunnel, Lilin happened across another dozen or so goblins, aimlessly milling around the chamber.

Horus gave her a pat on the shoulder "Well done," then he turned to the waiting mage "It's your turn now. Show us what you can do,"

Gaspard took the hint and stepped forward, staff at the ready "Hey blockheads!"

A dozen green heads turned to meet him.

A mystical white arrow appeared between the two hooks on top of his staff, and with one hand he drew it back, like the world's tallest, magical slingshot. "White Dart!"

He released, and a single goblin head was separated from its body. The rest charged him, teeth bared, snarling and snapping, with speed that betrayed their small, stubby size.

"Rend, my blade of moonlight!"

A crescent shape wove itself from the focus of Gaspard's staff, forming a blade. Free from the weight of a real bladed pole arm, Gaspard swung his staff with abandon, cleaving any and every advancing goblin in two with a single stroke.

Horus was impressed "Not every day you see a mage fight on the front lines. I suggest you don't try it on the lower floors,"

There came a rumble. Horus noted a shiver run down Lilin's normally relaxed stature. His eyes scanned the dark ahead and saw dozens of pairs of gleaming red eyes meet his own.

"We have more company," he warned

But Gaspard flashed him a confident smirk "Heh, just watch,"

He planted his staff with a resounding crack as a circle of glowing white runes expanded from the ground beneath it.

"Unwavering moon, unto thine unforgiving night I beseech thee. Fly, thy points of starlight!"

A thousand streaks of blinding light flung themselves from behind his shoulders like a volley of divine arrows. The rapidly advancing goblin swarm was torn to smoking shreds by the assault. White hot streaks tore and scorched their way through goblin flesh. When all was said and done, all that was left of them was their stones, and grimy smears of smoke and ash.

"Truly impressive," Horus remarked "Quick, yet powerful. I'd be surprised if you couldn't find a party to take you down lower,"

Gaspard clicked his tongue as he approached them "Well, you know how mages usually are. My kind of magic just doesn't fit the archetype, you know?"

"Hm, I see…"

It was true that raiders desired strong, area clear before all else, even speed, especially in the lower floors. Sure, this spell covered an area, but it wasn't particularly wide, besides these light rays lacked impact. Individually they weren't any better than regular arrows, even 'White Dart'.

At the very least, they'd have no problem hunting alone.

"Let's get these stones and head back. I'm calling for a strategy meeting,"

"Whatever you say, 'boss'," the mage said with a mock salute "What do you say, Lil- Huh? Lilin?"

He turned around to find her obediently picking up magic stones.

"Hey hey! Don't just go around doing what he says! Don't you have a mind of your own?"

She didn't answer. Deep down, Gaspard wasn't expecting one. With a resigned sigh, he joined her on the floor.


	4. Chapter 4: A Secret Hidden

The trip back to the top was just as boring as the trip down below. Sure being safe was nice and all, but Lilin please, give Gaspard a shot. The girl had flicked a glowing white dagger at near everything that came within a certain radius of them. Thank the gods no adventurers got hit by any. They attracted all sorts of stairs as they made their way back to the Guild. Kind of hard not to, yet again, but having the only woman in the party painted red certainly didn't help things.

Not even 5 seconds were they in the guild office when Julian Smoke ran up to meet them.

"Gaspard, hey! Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Oh, hey Jules! What can I- Whoa!"

"Sorry, can I just borrow him for a bit? Thanks guys!"

"What're you-?"

"Just shut up and follow,"

Without another word, Julian strong-armed the mage up the stairs to the right of the hall and into one of the many private meeting rooms. Gaspard noted the pleasant decor and wooden furnishings before he was unceremoniously shoved into a waiting chair.

"Dude! What's your deal?"

The guild officer shoved a bundle of papers into the mage's face.

"Aren't these our status papers?" Gaspard asked, clearly bewildered

"Right you are. Can you tell me anything that's wrong with these status papers?"

Gaspard blinked "Uh, no. I mean, I can't even read them,"

Julian held his face in his hands and staggered on the spot "You can't even… AGH!"

He shoved another bundle papers at his face, this time in what Gaspard recognized as Guild-standard parchment. High quality stuff. But on the parchment was the easily recognized and read language of Koine. Everybody and their grandmother knew Koine.

"Read these," Julian commanded, rubbing his temples and collapsing into a nearby chair.

"O…kay…"

Gaspard took the hint and gave one a quick glance.

* * *

Gaspard Lenoire

Level One

Strength: D- 501

Defense: E- 467

Dexterity: C- 687

Agility: B- 790

Magic: A- 877

* * *

He was astonished "Is… Is this me?"

By the Gods he was better than he realized. Of course he knew spells and skills by now, but his base stats were amazing!

"Hey Gassy-"

Lenoire flinched at his embarrassing childhood nickname "Don't call me that,"

"Shut it," Julian looked tired, and he'd only last seen him earlier today "Just, please tell me those are fake. It'd make my life so much easier,"

Faked? Gaspard was hurt "Come on, man! I've been level one for nearly 10 years now! Don't you think I'm entitled to this?"

And with these stats, he's definitely on the higher end of the level one spectrum.

The tired guild officer sighed "That's not the point,"

He stood and rudely jabbed a finger at the skill section of the paper "You know what skills are?"

"Of course I know," Gaspard huffed

They were like passive abilities that helped adventurers through their daily life. There were even two types. Development skills are like passive effects and have a small but constant effect on the adventurer who had them. Next were abilities. Abilities had a trigger, but once it was pulled, it could yield all sorts of spectacular effects. Gaspard's only skill, the development skill 'Mage', wasn't terribly rare. Any adventurer with a high enough investment into magic could gain it as soon as their first level up.

Their first level up?

"Wait… Then, how do I-?"

"You. Tell. Me,"

He ran it through his head again. Adventurers were only supposed to start getting skills at level two, and had a chance of gaining more with each level they gained. So how'd Gaspard, a level one despite his power, already have a skill?!

"Not only that, but you've got THREE SPELLS! THREE!" he exclaimed, finally venting hours of frustration.

Gaspard's line of sight ran down the paper to where the spells were.

"White Dart… Silver Spears… Moonlight Blade…"

Yep, those were his alright. But as if having a skill at level 1 was bizarre enough, having three spells was even weirder. It was widely accepted that mages could only ever learn 3 spells normally. After that, not even grimoires could guarantee any more.

"So, I'm some sort of prodigy or something…?"

Julian sighed once again "Maybe…"

"Alright, what's up Jules?" Gaspard said, finally fed up with his attitude "It hasn't even been five hours since we last met and you look like your career's about to end!"

"It just might," he said, baffling his friend "Look, I'll consider it a personal favor if you keep your status hidden. Theirs too,"

"Why?"

Julian didn't have the heart to hand him the rest of the papers. Leaving the guy to stew in whatever frustrations were plaguing him, Gaspard took it upon himself to read his teammates' statuses for him.

* * *

Horace Bloodtalon

Level Two

Strength: S-902

Defense: B-796

Agility: E- 403

Dexterity: E-406

Magic: C-655

Development Skills:

Abnormal Resistance-D- Increases resistance against debilitating conditions

Crush-C- Increases Strength

Abilities

Antaeus Force- Massively increase Strength and Defense when grounded. Cannot be moved while grounded.

* * *

Gaspard was quite impressed. Even after level two, easily twice the mage's own strength, he's clearly dedicated himself to training. Although, he did find it odd that his defense only ranked B, despite his huge physique. Perhaps that's why he wore such fully enclosed armour. Though, this ability, 'Antaeus Force', was no laughing matter either. Abilities like that could be gained regardless of level, though their appearance is a rarity. His magic was pretty high too, but his spell section looked completely empty.

His curse section on the other hand…

Instigate- Compel enemies to attack the caster

Retaliate- Blast your next assailant and all foes before you with a powerful curse. The curse's strength grows with the strength of the attacker.

As opposed to spells, curses were much rarer, and focused on debilitating enemies rather than straight damage. Nobody knew if there was a limit to the number of curses one could gain, since they were already so rare. You could say having two was an oddity in itself.

* * *

Lilin D'Esprit

Level One

Strength: B-765

Defense: C-678

Dexterity: A-897

Agility: S-983

Magic: B-788

* * *

Gaspard always wondered if it was right to be afraid of a girl one head shorter than he was. Turned out, he was right.

This girl was terrifying!

She must've spent her entire life killing monsters or something. The mage rubbed his temples as an ensuing headache came on. How did she even survive?!

Looking further down the page, it only got worse…

* * *

Development Skills:

Hunter: B-Improve abilities against monsters you've killed previously

Wayfarer: C- Improves Dexterity and Agility

* * *

Why was Jules complaining about him?! This girl had two development skills already! Two!

* * *

Abilities:

Butcher- Increases abilities in the presence of wounded enemies

Heated Rage- Raises the strength of all abilities when wounded

Spells:

Pierce- Throw a fan of glowing white blades. Ignores both physical and magical defense.

* * *

Two abilities even, and a spell to match. How is she even level one? She could level up anytime now. Except, she can't, he realized. Adventurers didn't just need to be powerful to go up a level, they needed to accomplish some sort of heroic feat. The exact conditions for this feat are unclear, the grand majority of adventurers could live their entire lives without levelling up.

By the end of it, Gaspard's head dully ached. It was suddenly so clear why Julian was so angry at him.

"You know what, fine," he said "It's a secret. Just… tell me, please. What's got you so worked up?"

He stood and placed a hand on the officer's shoulder and looked deep into his tired eyes.

"We're friends, right?"

Julian regarded him between his fingers. Soon enough, the hands that held his face withdrew, and he gave his old friend a tired smile.

"You're right. I-I'm sorry, it's just… A lot has happened recently. You could say that Orario's in a tight spot right now…"

Really? Gaspard hadn't realized. The place was so lively and diverse, he could've sworn it was like this all the time. "How so?"

The mage sat back down in his chair. From the way Julian leaned back into his chairs, shoulders slumped and head hanging down, he could tell this was serious. Whatever this was, it's been plaguing him, and perhaps the whole guild, for a long time.

"Last year, a dangerous organization called Evilus was destroyed by a raiding party led by Orario's best adventurers…"

Evilus was a name no one uttered without tension. A group of adventurers and their gods, hell-bent on Orario's destruction and all it stood for.

"Wait, so, wouldn't that be a good thing?" Gaspard asked

"It was, for a time anyway," he sighed "We lost a lot of good people. Even now we haven't quite recovered from the resulting power vacuum. As more virtuous adventurers fell in the dungeon, less savory folk have grown in number. These days, the adventurer's and by extension, the Guild's reputations are at an all-time low. Adventurers these days are seen as little more than glorified mercenaries…"

Gaspard's understanding grew. Prior to his journey, he held the same contempt for adventurers as most people. They were loud, greedy and selfish. The very definition of great power in the wrong hands. They say Orario was different, but what did that matter to the people outside its walls? He'd heard horror stories of regular people being savaged by these wanton thugs. Possessions taken, houses burned, men and women being killed or sold to slavery. Those were stories that many were all too familiar with, especially himself.

"…crime's at an all-time high," Julian continued "With most of our enforcers wiped out in the raids against Evilus, we're struggling to find the personnel to keep the peace around here. I just don't know what to do…"

Things were grim indeed. With a note of finality in Julian's voice, Gaspard took the cue and stood to make his way outside.

"At the very least," he said, looking back at his old friend with a smile "You won't have us to worry about,"

He made a gesture with his forefinger, drawing a cross over his heart. "I promise,"

Julian caught the gesture, and smiled weakly "I'll hold you to it, pal,"

And the mage left, a new load now weighed across his mind.

* * *

His two companions were waiting silently in the lobby, in the exact same place where he left them. As usual, they drew all sorts of attention, but after their trip in the dungeon, Gaspard had quickly learned to ignore that fact.

"Well?" Horace said, stiffly turning his head toward the approaching mage

"Here, we're good to go, for the most part…" he said with a small wince "Let's just keep to this to ourselves for now,"

He politely took their status papers from Gaspard and leafed through them in silence.

"Agreed," the knight said soberly

Gaspard spared a glance towards the silent female, who showed no hint of reaction to his presence. Guess she was just along for the ride.

"While you were gone, I've taken the opportunity to trade in our bounty,"

Gaspard's eyes snapped back to the knight "What've we got?"

"Our earnings total 12,000 valis. If we dedicate ourselves to the task, I believe we can triple that number each day," He cast his gaze down towards the pouch held securely against his hip.

Gaspard nodded thoughtfully. That should be enough for three people to get by. Barring the necessities, gear maintenance, potions and items which were essential to dungeon crawling could cost several thousand valis per person.

Horace wasn't finished "There was also… this," he said, holding out a piece of paper

Gaspard only needed to read one word before his heart gave out inside his chest. "An expenses form?"

"Indeed. The three of us have quite the troublesome road ahead,"

The mage quickly snapped it from the knight's hands and skimmed through it with a growing feeling of dissatisfaction.

"Expenses incurred… Guild tax… Rental of Guild Property… Administration…"

Eventually, he gave up. His arms dangling by his sides as he sought a nearby wall for support.

Horace looked to him with a bemused expression, not that he could see it. At the very least, he knew exactly how he felt about this.

"Troublesome indeed…"


	5. Chapter 5: A Path Now Taken

One week later and Gaspard was already over the whole taxes thing, but that was only because he had more things to keep in mind.

Back in the Shrine, Horace had called an emergency meeting, in light of their financial situation. The details were grim. Even with their estimated income of 36,000 valis, there was no chance of getting a substantial return. Between daily expenses like dungeon gear and sustenance, there was the other, much larger sums to pay as well.

This Shrine they now lived in was once going to be demolished by the Guild, but after the Blade's formation, it was decided that they would be allowed to live there. That sounded great and all, until the two men took a glimpse at the rental fee.

"140,000 valis a fortnight?! What in the hells…" Gaspard had exclaimed

Horace could only hum in agreement. A party of five level ones were estimated to make about 25,000 a day. Even with just the three of them, they could push that number substantially higher. Even then, deducting daily necessities along with equipment and maintenance from their estimated daily income, and it just didn't add up.

After hours of discussion, there was little else they could do to change their situation. But at least, the impromptu leader of this small band of adventurers had an idea.

"We can make this work. Though it will require a grievous amount of effort, in a month's time we'll collect enough funds to resume our search for answers,"

"Alright, let's do it!"

Though Lenoire was enthusiastic at first, that energy quickly drained away as the days went by.

* * *

"White Dart!"

An arrow of silver light flew down the dreary dungeon tunnel and into a goblin's head. In the next split second, Gaspard repeated his incantation and with another streak of white light he claimed another victim.

"Rend, my blade of moonlight!"

A sickle-shaped blade erupted from the head of his staff as he spun around. The goblins charged snarling into the fray only to be swiftly cut down like grass in a field. When the commotion drew the monsters from a whole other cell in the dungeon, Gaspard planted his staff firmly in the ground and yelled.

"Unwavering moon, unto the unforgiving night I beseech thee! Fly, thy points of starlight!"

A virtual torrent of glowing spears raced from behind his back and into the soft flesh of his would-be assailants. In droves they fell before the searing light, dissolving to ash as each blade made its way right through their soft bodies.

Only when there was naught but a single scrap of flesh left did he relent.

"That makes… 34," he panted, leaning on his staff for support

Over the week, the three decided on an arrangement. That being said, it meant that while Gaspard and Lilin spent the days hunting in the dungeon, Horace used his seniority to find out what he could about the Blade, and manage the familia's daily needs.

"Don't see why he can't hunt like the both of us…" Gaspard grumbled, although he knew why

Horace was powerful, but he was slow. Though he could kill a dozen monsters with little effort, Lilin alone could tear down double that amount in half the time.

In the meantime, Lenoire opened his palm and tiredly waited for the magic stones to jump into his magic gloves. 34 goblins yielded enough magic stones to comfortably fill his palm. With that out of the way, he figured he could take a break.

* * *

"Dude! Hey! You're back!" Julian Smoke said with a big grin on his face "How's the hunt?"

"Same as always," the mage groaned, leaning heavily on the guild counter "Lilin back yet?"

"Afraid not. The girl can spend the entire day in the dungeon without someone to stop her," he figured

"That's for sure,"

Neither of the men in the Broken Blades have seen Lilin for a while now. Only ever coming back home after cashing in on her prize and dumping it on the dining room table. In a way, you have to admire her for her dedication. In another, Lenoire was quietly perturbed by the single-minded drive she had toward the Broken Blade. It made her almost inhuman.

"Anyway, you happen to notice the rise in goblin numbers lately?" Julian asked while he sifted through a pile of papers "I've been getting reports from other adventurers that they haven't any lizards or kobolds in a while now,"

Come to think of it, starting 4 days ago, Gaspard hadn't seen any either. "What do you think it means?"

"I dunno. We in the Guild take pride in what little we know about the Dungeon. It keeps you adventurers safe after all. That said, anything we don't know is bound to be bad news,"

With a flick of his wrist, a well-decorated sheet of parchment was immaculately signed and handed to the tired mage.

"Your signature, please,"

"What's this then?" he sighed, absent-mindedly scribbling on the piece of paper

"A rank up!" Smoke said with a grin "Every familia is given a rank based on their resources and the power and number of their adventurers. I'm pleased to say that your little band of oddballs has made it to G rank. Along with a substantial increase in taxes owed…"

Gaspard groaned

"You get additional support from the guild. Here you are!"

He passed him a fancy metal card bordered in silver. Gaspard's name and familia was inscribed on it in elegant cursive, along with the Broken Blade's brand new rank.

"And this is…?"

"A dungeon pass. Should get you access to the lower floors. You'd usually get one of these after you're first level up, but considering your… ahem… unique, circumstances…" he trailed off, hoping his old friend would catch his drift

Luckily he did, and despite his tiredness, he cracked a smile in return "Thanks man. Where would I be without you?"

"Probably drowning in goblins," he chuckled "You take care now,"

"Heh, same to you Jules. Don't you ever change!"

"That's a promise!"

* * *

Despite his moaning and groaning, Gaspard couldn't help but feel pleased with this development. This flimsy, silver card could've been made of pure gold with the way he was smiling. Finally! No more goblins, no more rookie adventurers! This was the break he was looking for, a chance to escape this dull routine. Ignoring the looks he was getting from strutting his way through the streets, he turned into a quiet road, and made his way to the shrine.

And to his surprise, a beauty was there in front of it.

Flaming red hair, supple curves, and a tight-fitting shirt and trousers, topped with an eyepatch over her right eye. The contrast between feminine charm and roughshod aura made for quite an appealing figure. Though, and he kept this one buried deep down, not the kind he deserved.

On his approach, a ruby red eye snapped towards him, quickly taking in his appearance and body language.

"Can I help you?" the mage ventured carefully

She shook her head "No, though I appreciate the offer," and left, taking long strides past the man and vanishing into the crowded main street beyond

It took him a few seconds he was still staring at the spot he last saw her before coming to his senses.

Laughing quietly, bitterly, he shoved open the old wooden gate and went inside.

"Lenoire, you're early," came a familiar voice

In the dining room, surrounded by all manner of books and papers was the knight Horace. Knight of what no one was sure, but he definitely carried himself like one. Looked the part too, in a sort of dark, wild, wanderer kind of way. It always perplexed Gaspard why he insisted on being in full plate and mail before others. It can't be that comfortable.

"Got something you'll be interested in," the mage said, making a show of drawing his brand new silver pass

Horace took one long look at it and grunted "Sooner than expected, but you'll hear no complaint from me," He shoved his hand into a pile of dusty old tomes and offered it to the mage.

Taking the book, he glanced over the mess of a dining table.

"You've been busy," Gaspard noted, gently brushing away the dust

"Just read," he ordered, ignoring the comment

Shrugging off his terse way of talking, the mage took a moment to flip through the aged volume. It was filled from page to page with strange characters, likely some form of language. These symbols were arranged in vertical rows and seem to be read from left to right. Though he couldn't make heads or tails of it, he certainly recognized this form of structure.

"East-human. Well, I think anyway," he said, giving the page a closer look "Though, nothing that's being used today…"

"Then we'll need a translator," Horace said with finality "Though for now, we can spend the afternoon getting acquainted with the middle floors,"

Gaspard balked "Woah woah, hang on a minute, buddy. I just got back! Besides, I haven't even had lunch yet,"

The knight didn't even pause to think. He was already all geared up with his shield and mace "Then do so quickly. We must return from the Dungeon by sundown, else some unsavory characters try something on us after dark,"

Without another word he left the room, and marched out into the street beyond. Joints aching in protest, the mage raced to meet him.

"I swear, you guys'll be the death of me…" he groaned

* * *

Practically dragging his feet the whole way, Gaspard followed the indifferent knight back down the street whence he came. Luckily he scavenged some dried meat from their pitiful excuse of a kitchen before heading out, but the meager strips did nothing to improve his mood. Ignoring the inevitable gazes that came with travelling with someone like Horace, they arrived at the Dungeon entrance. A large wave of adventurers spewed out of the spiral staircase, likely retiring after a long morning in the labyrinth. The pair were one of the rare few to descend at this time of day, not like one would've wanted to.

As soon as they made to the bottom, to the gateway to the First Floor, a familiar masked face was there to greet them.

Gaspard squinted through the dim light and saw for himself their missing comrade "Lilin? Where in the blazes have you been?!"

He didn't know why he expected her to respond, but she didn't, as usual. Her hollow gaze settled evenly on the tired mage, then on the large knight next to him.

"Let's go," Horace said

He plodded off, with the sound of heavy plated armour and steel boots on the rocky ground. His masked comrade leapt to meet him, and soon after, a reluctant mage went too. Somewhere, deep down inside, Gaspard had a bad feeling about this expedition.

* * *

On the way down, Lenoire had far too much time to himself. His comrades being as silent as ever, all he had was his own thoughts to ponder. He liked the amount of progress they were making, but he couldn't help but think they were being too hasty. These experiences were nothing like the tales of adventure he heard about from before. Being a familia was supposed to be like the name implied: a family.

But looking at these two people, people that he was supposed to entrust his life to, he couldn't find it in himself to do it. There was just too many mysteries surrounding them, least of all the Broken Blade, the very thing that called them together.

Just where did they come from? Where do their motivations lie? And most of all, Can they be trusted to do the right thing?

Looking between Horace Bloodtalon's fully enclosed armour, and Lilin's featureless mask, he tightened his grip on his staff.

I guess… we'll have to see.

* * *

With Lilin leading the way, the group had no trouble navigating the way to the lower floors. Every troop of goblins that approached was met with a swift end with as a little as a flick of the girl's wrist. It honestly terrified the poor mage, but the knight beside him reacted as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The lower the adventurers went, the dimmer the ambient light became. More side passages began to appear, and with them, a greater opportunity for surprise. Not that it gave them any trouble, but Gaspard couldn't help but worry. Goblins were as low as monsters could get, sure, but he'd seen far too many villages laid bare by the ugly green monsters. What they lacked in size and strength, they more than made up for in numbers and brutal cunning.

Ahead, Lilin twitched.

Alarm bells immediately began ringing in Gaspard's head. His staff at the ready, he glanced to his right to see Horace tighten the grip on his mace.

"What is it, girl?" the knight asked

She made no answer, tilting her head as if to hear something better. Then, with barely a moment's noticed, she darted into a nearby passage, gone before they realized.

"What in-?"

"After her!"

Gaspard leapt after her, Horace being slower to respond. Feet a blur beneath him, the mage could barely keep pace with Lilin as she slowly disappeared into the distance. As Gaspard was on the verge of giving up, the girl's figure came into view.

She was crouched over something, but as he got closer, he soon realized it wasn't something, but someone.

The masked woman roughly prodded the prone adventurer with her claws. It didn't take a genius to realize this man was long gone. Wearing a thick jerkin and pants under a few sparse pieces of armor over his chest and limbs, this young many lay face down in a pool of his own blood.

"What do you make of it?"

Horace stepped into view, still breathing evenly despite the sudden sprint.

Gaspard tapped his chin "A monster maybe? Although…"

Gingerly, he used his staff to leverage the unfortunate man over onto his back.

"I'd have to say a person did this," he finished grimly

An adventurer hunting alone was weird enough. An adventurer's corpse alone in the dungeon was even stranger. There were indeed a few who went solo, but they were a special breed of idiot, especially if they went this far. So they more likely explanation was…

"Foul play," Horace grunted "Sword wound to the gut, no other signs of a struggle. Not to mention…"

Gaspard patted down the bloody corpse, not at all minding the mess. His gloves were enchanted after all, despite how mundane it may seem.

"No belongings. A bandolier without pouches, a belt without a bag, no weapons… This man was robbed," Gaspard concluded.

This, this was why he couldn't stand adventurers. The dungeon was lawless place, it revealed the worst in people, the desire for wealth and power unchecked by law or order. It was a mindset many brought with them to the towns above. When they couldn't earn as much as they did down here, they turn to banditry and worse. This poor man was but one of many who died at a supposed comrades hands.

And Gaspard, for all his thoughts, couldn't help but eye his companions with the same suspicion.

"Let's move on," Horace said finally "We can report this to the guild on our way up,"

Wordlessly, Gaspard followed the knight to the main passageway. Without his guild ID card there was little way to know who this adventurer was or could have been. This was yet another of the dungeon's trials. An accursed place that made monsters unending.

And made similar monsters of men.


End file.
